


Like Something out of Dreams

by SelenaEstella



Series: Prompted works [11]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aquariumstuck, Gen, Implied Family Issues, Implied Past Drug-Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaEstella/pseuds/SelenaEstella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aquariumstuck GamTav, with Gamzee as a worker and Tavros as one of the creatures.</p><p>A member of the cleaning staff gets a little lost and finds something he never expected to find, ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Something out of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Some background info on the characters that isn’t covered in the fic:
> 
> Gamzee is a recovered/recovering drug addict whose been given a cleaning job at the aquarium because he needs something to help get his life back on track. He doesn’t have any (noticed) violent tendencies despite being ‘sober’, but sadly the drugs had permanent damaging affects that cause him to be rather addled most of the time (he is basically 'stoned').
> 
> Tavros is a bull-shark merman recently captured from the wild. He was sickly when found (which made it easier) and still isn’t doing too well despite treatment provided by the aquarium. He generally distrusts humans and is known for being uncooperative.

The people here gave you a badge with your name and job on, jokingly saying it was in case you ever forgot. Well, you don’t think you’ll be getting your forgetting on about either of those things quickly, since the mop may as well be glued to your hand and a name isn’t a thing that you think  _can_  be forgotten while cleaning an aquarium, but there is  _one_  thing that definitely can be and that is how big and confusing this place can be.

You always manage to forget, at some point each evening, but usually there’s a sign of some sort telling you what section you’re in and you can work it out from there. These people, man, they were so nice giving you a job at all, and nice to  _you_  too, so you want to keep it yours and keep these people sweet. Getting lost all the time don’t help that which is why you usually focus on getting back on track on your own. It’d be nice if you never got lost at all but well… ain’t like that’s a thing you can be helping, really.

This place, though? Honestly can’t say you’ve ever set foot in it before. Everything’s dim at this time, ceiling lights turned right down so the little fishes can sleep, most places lit only by tank lights filtering through the water and the occasional beam of your torch, which you get out now because actually, this place is even darker than what you’re used to.

The hum of the tank filters breaks the quiet – a thing you’re always thankful of – but for some reason, they don’t quite shake the creepy atmosphere. The floors look clean, too – not like they’ve been trodden on day by day by day, hundreds of dirty shoes digging in dirt that nothing can get rid of except a new floor…

Crap. You must’ve gone into one of the staff-only places while your mind was wandering too much for the rest of you to notice. Ain’t there supposed to be some sort of access pass thingy though? You’re not sure. Unless an alarm is ringing somewhere else, you don’t  _think_  you’re some place you shouldn’t be.

Still, you get the feeling that getting out fast would be a good idea. You turn to leave… but something moves out of the corner of your eye.

The tanks are a little further away, huge tube-like tanks that stretch from floor to ceiling, access hatches someplace upstairs you guess. There are a couple of smaller, square tanks to one side, but what moved was in one of the big ones.

It’s too dim to see, and there are wavy frond of sea-plants in the way, but you think that maybe there’s something staring at you.

Quickly, you glace around and have a listen. You can’t hear footsteps or see anyone else in here with you… so… it can’t hurt to have a peek, right? You like fish. Seem so chill all the time, just swimming and eating, and even the not-so-chill ones  _can_  be chill and are also pretty motherfucking badass when they get their wicked rage on.

You tiptoe over and squint into the water. The tank is so big that the curve of the glass doesn’t alter things much, but you still can’t see a lot. This whole place has a sleeping feel – not  _sleepy,_ **sleeping** because you bet that if you move too fast or make any sound, you’ll wake somebody up and then you’ll get in trouble.

Something definitely moves in the water as you watch. There are rocks in the way as well as plants, but you think there must be something moving on its belly at the bottom, by the way you can see sand shifting.

For a while, you wait. You could wait for hours you think, like this, like you used to wait on the beach at home, just in case that boat decided to show and your old man set foot on the beach. It’s a little like that right now, you think: carefully keeping an eye out, just in case, but thinking a bit about other stuff too. You could keep this up forever.

And for the first time your waiting is rewarded, and you perk up a little from where you’d let your head droop. The sand is shifting again, coming up in small plumes, and as you watch something peeks up from the behind the rock and  _whoa_.

At first you thought it must be a diver, and that you were going to get in a whole world’s of trouble for being caught, because whatever other animal has eyes like those and a face like that?

But the more you look the more it ain’t. For one thing there’s no mask, and that nose is more like a fish’s, and then you see the sandy-coloured horns on its head. Heh. Kinda like a bull’s.

The two of you stare for a very long time, trying to work out just what the fuck the other is looking at, you think. Then, suddenly, you just start laughing. Because… well, you didn’t expect that. And also because it’s such a funny little thing, the creature in the tank, all big eyes and big stares and looking so confused, and you have to stuff your fingers in your mouth to stop from making too loud of a sound.

It looks so surprised that you only laugh harder, leaning on your mop are you try to keep it silent. Every time you think you’re fine and look back up you start to giggle again.

Eventually, though, it stops being quite so funny and you can stand up straight again, still grinning like a loon but under control.

‘ _Shiiiit_ , bitch,’ you whisper, pulling some hair away from where it fell over your eyes a little, ‘I’m sorry, you’s just lookin’ so funny, bro.’ You talk to things even if you know they can’t hear. Even if this thing could understand words, the glass is too thick to let your whisper through. But you talk anyway, and maybe some of the meaning got through somehow, because the whatever-it-is looks understandably annoyed.

It swims out a little more, looking both cross and cautious, and you see shoulders, arms and then the start of a tail rise up from over the rock.

‘ _Wow_ ,’ you breathe, grin hitching even wider as you stare. ‘Didn’t have not one single inkling of an idea that a thing like you could ever exist where shit’s real, brother.’ The merman (if that’s what it is, looks more like a kid to you) drifts closer, still looking uneasy but a little less so. Sandy-grey skin slips smoothly into a dusky-brown tail that gently flicks from side to side as the mer-boy comes closer. His hands are used to dig into the sand and hold onto rocks as he slowly approaches, pulling a little and keeping him steady. He moves like something out of dreams, smoother than any diver could or even, you think, any fish that size.

Wary brown eyes stare down at you, not dead-looking like any other shark you’ve seen, or any kind of fish at all, for that matter.

He looks… kinda sick, actually, now he’s close. thinner than you think must be normal, although you got no way of telling. Horns seem kinda brittle too: you can see small cracks over the surface of each…

Without really think, you put your hand up. You want to touch him, just to make sure that he’s real and you’re not dreaming, but of course all your fingers meet is cold, hard glass. You keep it there anyway.

You see the shark-boy’s fingers twitch, but don’t look away from his soft young face. He just seems so…  _tender_ , like no matter how hard he scowls there’s always something smiling underneath.

he raises his hand, just like you did a few seconds ago, and—

‘ _OI!_ ’ You yelp and spin around, dropping you mop with an echoing clatter that scares you almost more than the shout did. Standing in the doorway is another staff member, although you can tell immediately that he’s higher ranked thank you. Oh shit.

‘This area is restricted access!’ he barks. His eyes fall on your clothes, and the mop you just dropped. His next question is incredulous. ‘How the ever-chafing  _fuck_  did  _you_  get in  _here??_ ’ Your tongue fails you for a moment and all you can do is stare with your mouth open.

‘The-the door,’ you manage eventually. ‘Not locked… I… I was just leaving, I swear!’ The man abruptly facepalms.

‘This,’ he growls, ‘is the  _fourth_  time that asshole has forgotten to lock up.’ He lowers his hand in order to glare at you again.

‘Ok,’ he snarls, though you think he might not be so angry at  _you_  now, ‘you’re not  _technically_  in the wrong, I suppose, but get your ass out of here and get on with the job you’re meant to be doing, before I call someone who will  _make_  you.’

‘I… right!’ You take a step forward, remember the fucking mop, nearly trip over your own legs when you twist around and down to get it, and then finally start stumbling towards the door.

But not until pausing to have a quick glance back, just in case the brown-eyed boy’s still there. He isn’t though, and there’s no sign he ever was, and it’s with an odd feeling of disappointment in your chest that you shuffle past the angry guy in doorway, the guy who stares at you suspiciously until you’re well out of the room and continues to stare until the door closes between you.

…Now what?

You sure as fuck ain’t high and besides, no drug you’ve ever taken has shown you pictures like the ones you saw in that room. So it was real. And the way that guy was acting, he knows it’s real and knows you know.

Unease twists at your gut. He didn’t  _say_  you’d get fired, said you weren’t _technically_  in the wrong… but that doesn’t mean you won’t get in trouble.

You saw a miracle tonight. And if you won’t forget, then neither will he.

And, hopefully, neither will the miracle.


End file.
